Star Wars: The Eidolon Spark
by Jameson-Christopher
Summary: Trace Hexn, a devious smuggler, has a condemned history with an Imperial Inquisitor and will do anything to reclaim the past. Even if that means deceiving the Rebel Alliance. Based in 2ABY.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Within the region designated the _Wastes_ in Wild Space, beyond the outer rim, a lone alliance vessel screamed towards a large, rogue asteroid belt at sub-light speeds. The torch shaped DP20 Frigate, the _Lambent_ _Avatar, _served as a Covert Operations and Retrievals Vessel. Most of its shields had been sacrificed in order to enhance the performance of the colossal engines. It was following Imperial Communications and signals coming from a dense pocket of asteroids within the belt - which if not approached under extreme speeds, could prove deadly. Upon the bridge of the ship, Runcht Sunb, a nervous sullustan pilot was startled whilst waiting for further orders from his captain.

"Runcht! How close are we?"

He almost leaped from his chair as the combination a rough shake of the shoulder and arrogant human voice caused him to kick his ankle against the base of the command console.

"Close! Trace must have patience! Trace has made enough trouble for Runcht already!" he said in sullustese (his native language) with a frantic and agitated tone.

"A little Sabacc in hyperspace never hurt anyone. Captain Pevin is just a hardass. Besides, you won the pot. I had to look around the crew's quarters to, uh…compensate."

Runcht rotated his chair to face the human with a smirk. Trace Hexn bore the appearance a scoundrel with pride, a constant badly shaven beard to flaunt his stubble and wild hair that never seemed clean, but always maintained a shape pulled behind his ears and neck.

His tanned jacket was bulky and accompanied by a bandolier, revealing the presence of possibly deadly arsenal without exposing it. The lights above the terminal and veiwscreen-laden corridor idly blinked diagnostic colors as footsteps approached the two.

"That the captain?" Trace chimed.

Runcht nodded in reply as Captain Andrew Pevin emerged from the corridor, striding towards the two with a stressed pace. Captain Pevin was a dark skinned human, who applied his military formality with as much dedication as Trace did the dregs of his own lifestyle. His uniform could only be described as pristine.

"C-Captain!" Runcht immediately stood to his feet.

"Easy, Sunb. Slow us down to half our current speed then stop just outside their sensor range. Our engineers are still preparing the arrow-23 in the speeder bay. Speaking of which, why are you up here Trace? You should be suiting up with the SpecForce team. If and when we can get close enough to the Imperial Facility, you're in for a wild ride. Best be prepared."

Trace folded his arms, "I own that 23, _Captain_. If your boys can _aim_ those turbolasers, we'll have no problems getting in. Getting out is the problem."

Captain Pevin nodded to Runcht, who quickly sat down and complied with his orders.

"All the _more_ reason you shouldn't be up here! I need you there for the final briefing before I issue the green light. Reports indicate we should expect at least _two_ Tartan patrol cruisers guarding the station, in addition to its own gravity pulse defense grid. I want to be ready for them," Pevin stepped closer to Trace, standing an intimidating one and a half feet above his head, "We are here because of you. You need to respect that fact. It's not only your life being risked," the Captain continued louder, quelling an attempted retort, "Now get in that turbolift and get to the launch bay before I jettison you _without_ the 23."

The captain returned down the corridor to his quarters for his personal preparations. Trace rolled his eyes and turned to Runcht.

"You haven't told him have you? You haven't _shown_ it to him?" he accused.

"What? No! Trace's plan still," Runcht lowered his voice to a whisper, "Trace's plan still secret. Runcht would be thrown out airlock too if Runcht told the Captain!"

"It better be. I'll head down to the 23," Trace, too, lowered his voice and held his hand out discreetly, "Give me the holocron"

Runcht turned back to his console and ducked his head under it, pulling open the emergency power box for the system and retrieved a dull teal cube from a recess within, an ancient data storage device, created and used by the Jedi knights before their eradication.

An inactive holocron. He replaced the cover and glanced around the bridge at the other personnel before turning back to Trace. Confident he was not seen, he slipped the cube into Trace's palm. An object of such value would have been apprehended were it to be brought aboard by Trace. Captain Pevin had a less than perfect history with the scoundrel.

"It's time to cage the bitch… and free the beauty." Trace mused with a grin.

He tucked the item into his jacket and strolled casually towards the turbolift, whistling mischievously on his way down.


	2. Chapter 1: Solace Side Station

**Chapter One: Solace Side Station**

Doctor Nikolai Solace applauded himself as the green light indicating a successful simulation reflected off his spectacles and gleaming teeth in an overzealous grin. He laughed and began to sway and shuffle his feet around to the deafening loud, festive music that played in a never ending loop around his personal laboratory, complete with rows of incubation chambers filled with the brains of various species, a desk piled with documents, research and clutter and a 20 meter long rectangular slab assorted with equipment – an experimentation paraphernalia. The gem of his own private asteroid installation, smugly named _Solace Side Station_, the laboratory was the most pronounced feature of the station, occupying a significant space, containing his own personal chambers and dining hall with a transparent dome above his lab. It was connected to rest of the station via a single tubular walkway.

Drilled and constructed in accordance to his own design, _Solace Side Station _was the result of a generous research grant gifted to Nikolai by an "Anonymous Imperial Moff" after an imperial inquisitor became interested in his work concerning alien synaptic networks and activity. It was powered by an incredibly advanced form of internal combustion engine, fueled directly from a highly potent mineral found within the asteroid and others in the belt. The station possessed a unique but devastating defense system, a series of fifteen small relay stations built around the circumference of the asteroid. The relays were capable of emitting concentrated gravitational pulses. Any ships daring enough to enter the asteroid belt to plunder the station were smashed and crushed by nearby asteroids thrown at artificially destructive speeds by the relays. Debris littered the area around the station as a steadily growing warning.

Of course, there was an imperial presence aboard the station, a small garrison of stormtroopers and maintenance personnel to cater to the needs of Doctor Nikolai and an important client. Two Tartan-class patrol cruisers were docked at the station, for use in violent situations the relays could not solve. As such it was one of the rare and officially non-existent imperial installations in Wild Space.

"Sensational!" Doctor Solace clapped once more, ceasing his imitation of a Twi'Lek female dancer, confident he could not be seen.

He hurried over to the terminal at the far end of the massive lab paraphernalia which, moments ago was blinking success, now possessed a grey input screen. His lab coat fell just two centimeters above the ground as he moved, concealing most of his human figure. Nikolai had recently aged 88, but the only sign of his oncoming senility was a limp he carried in his left leg. He reached the terminal and started to hum along with the flamboyant music, but was soon interrupted by a chime at the lab's door, somebody requesting permission to enter. He clicked his fingers, shutting the music off.

"Who is it, damnit? I'm _busy!_" he yelled with a defined imperious accent.

"Dretch. Lady Arnia has requested an update on your progress, Doctor Solace" came the apathetic reply, filtered through a stormtrooper's helmet, Corellian accented and human in origin.

"She's hardly a lady anymore,"

"Sir?"

"Never mind… Tell her she's in luck, the latest calibrations have just been applied successfully. She can see me whenever she damn well pleases." Doctor Solace replied as he moved his hand over the fingerprint access by the door, it sliding open.

The storm commando Dretch took a step back as the door whined open, resembling a shadow as his night-black scout armor silhouetted against the white interior of the station. He was assigned as the Doctor's personal guard after Nikolai expressed the specific desire for a single, highly trained bodyguard, rather than "walking white targets". Dretch had expressed interest in the duty to end his long military career. He wanted to retire from combat, but not from his armor. He and the Doctor had a relationship built on mutual respect for each other's abilities.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go tell her, damnit!" Nikolai asserted impatiently, adjusting his spectacles.

"Sir, she also mentioned extending her visitation a further week,"

"What? Why? I don't…_we_ don't play babysitters here! Go tell her that, too!"

"Sir, with due respect, that's a stupid idea. She's an inquisitor. Unless you'd like a painful death, agitating her is a bad move." Dretch retorted.

"I've known her long enough to know she wouldn't lay a finger on me. You'd be the only one at risk, and I don't want her here longer than she needs to be. Her presence is unnerving, and I guarantee it will interfere with my work!"

Dretch sighed and tilted his helmeted head at Doctor Solace in protest, remaining in the corridor. Nikolai Rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Just tell her to stay out of my way and out of my work if she intends to remain!" groaned Nikolai, marching back into his lab.

"Yes, sir."

Just as Dretch began to turn down the walkway he stood to the side and saluted as a robed Zabrak female approached the door with quick, light steps, ignoring the storm commando on her way in. Dretch was wise enough to deduce she overheard their conversation and promptly shut the door to the lab behind her.

Inquisitor Mirev Arnia glanced around the lab, locating Doctor Solace. He had moved back to the same terminal and already resumed the music at the same tempo and volume as it had been before he was interrupted.

Mirev raised an eyebrow curiously at the clamor of wind and string instruments playing in celebration. Tuning it out, she moved away from the doctor to the other side of the room, intent on first inspecting the brain incubation pods. All but her neck and head was hidden beneath the flowing Inquisitor robes, marked in blood red and black, announcing her position and instilling intimidation to all those who recognized what they symbolized.

Like all Zabrak, the only two defining features to tell her apart from a human were a small outcrop of 5 short horns above her forehead, four encircling a larger fifth. The other was a ceremonial tattoo, three thick spears of purple running down from her eyebrows through both eyes to the base of her chin, and one through the center down her nose and lips. Her eyes were ethereal, in state of flux, shifting from dark brown to emerald every few seconds.

She was a member of the Imperial Inquisitorius, a relentless group of dark side agents. Created by Darth Sidious to serve the empire; tasked with hunting down, interrogating, recruiting and eliminating any remaining Jedi or force sensitive individuals throughout the galaxy.

But her interest in Nikolai Solace stemmed only from medical need. Mirev was the inquisitor responsible for his success and current residency. Bearing an extremely odd illness, the synaptic networks of her brain were in a state of constant degradation and if not repaired every few months, her mind would slowly die. Doctor Nikolai Solace was her synaptic conditioner, only his skills and treatments were keeping that from happening. But the reality was much more complicated.

Mirev silently headed towards the opposite side of the lab, standing a few paces behind Nikolai, who was fervently at work, and humming along to the blasting music. She announced her presence, manipulating force energy to silence it.

"What now?!" Nikolai growled, twisting in his chair to inspect the lab for the cause, jumping in surprise at the presence of the inquisitor.

"Stop that, damnit! I'm getting older, and I don't need _you_ shortening the time I have left! Not all of us have the privilege of body-swapping!"

"The process is much more intricate than you assume." She replied, features and voice reflecting no emotion or noticeable accent.

"Oh I'm sure. Bore me later, if you please. I have work to do."

"For one of your profession, I believe you would express much more interest."

"So you might think. If there is one thing I have learned through working with you, scientific analysis can reveal only one thing about the "force". The presence of midichlorians, nothing else! Not a damn thing! Now, what do you want?" Nikolai responded, standing to face her.

"Have you perfected the operations of the implant?" Mirev remained impassive and still.

"Of course, I've also managed to update its functions with a new set of commands. Ingenious! The idea came to me in a dream…" Nikolai cooed with passion.

"Elaborate" came the response.

"Yes, yes, give me a moment."

Nikolai turned back to the console and began tapping on the keys. A small circular pad was ejected moments later, which he eagerly retrieved and activated, turning back to Mirev. A hologram flickered to life, the image of a small micro-processor modified for use as a cybernetic implant. Various labels accompanied the image, detailing its components. Moments later the images rotated and shifted, zooming in on a tiny red section of the chip.

"Ah, here we are. I won't bother you with the advanced cybernetic cross synaptic application and programming procedures, _but_! Once the chip is installed, you will not be restricted to repressing Mirev's synaptic patterns to slow the degradation, but you can _control_ them, without releasing them. I assume you release Mirev when you need her personality to deal with certain situations, but I can also assume that doing so is unpredictable. You cannot control exactly what she will say. I can fix that. Think…"

He paused, gathering his thoughts in a hopeless attempt to dazzle the woman with his brilliance, "Think of it as a performance! This will let you _act_ as Mirev without actually letting her do the talking, effectively enabling you to _become_ her, and be able to, uh, filter what is said rather than, uh…ah! Yes, rather than letting her out, then attempting to manage what she says. And all with a single thought. A single damn thought!"

Mivia, the consciousness controlling the body of the Zabrak Mirev and suppressing the still living mind, canted her head in extreme intrigue as the Doctor drowned in his "brilliance".

"Very well. Interface it." She stated while traveling past Nikolai towards an operation table attached to the lab paraphernalia.

"What?! Aren't you going to say something else?" he complained.

He sighed when no response was given and walked towards the table, preparing for the operation. A moment before he induced her into unconsciousness, she belatedly responded.

"Yes. What was that music you were…_enjoying_?"

Nikolai mocked, "Zabrak Diaspora, a cultural monument to the Zabrak's dispersal from Iridonia to colonize the stars! I thought you would know that, Mivia…oh, no, you wouldn't. Mirev would."

Mivia fell into sleep staring at a madman's face, pitched against the stars, pondering whether or not she should eliminate her Doctor and seek another.


	3. Chapter 2: The Calm

**Chapter Two: The Calm**

Trace Hexn stepped out of the turbolift into the belly hold of the DP20, on deck five. He stopped short a few paces later as a white flight crew transport hovered past, filled with engineering personnel, including a few others following behind swiftly on foot. Anxiety was thick in the air as Trace approached the railing of the elevated area housing the lifts, looking down into the speeder bay.

An Arrow-23 transport land speeder looked similar to a small shuttle, a grey brick with engines and a rounded snub-nose cockpit, measuring a little over eight meters. It was designed for wilderness expedition, not space travel, but engineers with a variety of tools, materials and ingenuity had slowly changed the appearance and nature of Trace's Arrow-23 into a space worthy drop shuttle. The hull was reinforced with durasteel plating, covering the entire speeder save the engines. The cockpit's transparent windows were no longer visible through a tumor of thick black metal.

"_Damn_." Trace cooed appreciatively.

The turbolift he had emerged from whizzed open again, carrying four new passengers.

"Hey!"

Trace spun to face four tall Rebel SpecForce SpaceOps marines, clad in obsidian, skin tight tactical space-suits, bearing the Rebel Phoenix on their arm and leg pads. One bore a small black container on his back.

The human male with the container held his suit's visor-style helmet under one arm, gesturing at Trace with the other. Trace stepped away from the railing and approached the man, who broke off from the other three marines.

"Hey." Trace stated defensively.

The man smirked, running a hand through his short, sweat streaked hair.

"You the smuggler who's coming with us?" he said in a deep voice.

"That's me, Trace Hexn. Please tell me I get to wear one of those suits,"

"I'm taskforce commander Brell, and yeah, you'll be wearing one. Hell, if you get that inquisitor to come without a fight, you can keep it."

Trace smirked, feeling the holocron pressing against his chest through his jacket.

"She won't have a choice, trust me."

"Yeah? Well you better keep your head down while we're in the station. Captain says we need you to complete the Op, and I sure as shit don't want all this to be for nothing."

"I can handle myself. I'd be here alone if it weren't for those damn gravity relays." Trace boasted.

Brell laughed respectfully and shook Trace's hand with a smile.

"Yeah? Careful what you wish for"

"Why's that?" Trace asked.

"Never go into space with someone braver than you."

Trace scoffed inquisitively as Brell took the container off his back and threw it to him. He flipped it around to its lid and unsealed the top. Inside was a folded tactical space suit, identical to Brell's, and a heavy blaster pistol.

"Good luck" Brell said.

He gave a tip-of-the-hat salute to Trace and hurried down into the speeder bay to join his team.

* * *

Mirev sat alone in the void, hugging her legs, her skin transparent. The only source of light was shed from her body, casting an omni directional shadow along the glass like ground. It seemed to be sucked into the darkness that threatened to envelope her, a prison within her own mind - created by an intruder.

Her head darted up and she stood as another spot of illumination appeared not too far away. A female, concealed under a white cloak materialized out of the darkness, tendrils snaking out of the mist-like substance to feed the figure's creation, only to retreat back into the shadows as the woman stepped forward.

"You..." Mirev said, startled.

Mivia took another step and halted in front of the phantom Zabrak. When the body entered sleep, the minds it hosted could converse in this enviroment, creating avatars of the two souls.

Mirev had always appeared bare skinned and lucent, unable to move from the island of light at her feet, symbolizing her confinement and suppression. Mivia, although had never revealed her avatar to the Zabrak until now. She took another step towards Mirev, her cloak beginning to glow with light, banishing the shadows that crept about.

"A light show! Remind me to try that when I have YOU in a cage!" Mirev screamed.

Mivia removed the cloak's hood, revealing her humanity. Brown hair flowed down either side of her fair skinned face, marked with a minor amount of ageing. She raised her head to reveal piercing, crystal brown eyes.

"You're…human?"

"That is irrelevant. You do not have much time left to exist as you are."

"What do you mean?"

"I offer one last chance to join your knowledge with mine. When the body awakes, your mind and thoughts will become akin to a machine, to be accessed at my demand. Quell your stubbornness and join with me, before you become but a shade."

"Why? You've already done enough to me!"

"If you cannot provide the information I desire, I will make what use of you I can." Mivia said bluntly.

The glow about her cloak constricted, and the void surrounding them fell back into darkness.

"Then I die happy knowing I've fragged you over!" Mirev shouted, unperturbed by the intimidation.

"You will simply die." Mivia concluded, sensing Mirev's resolve.

The avatar of Mivia vanished. The shadows in the void surged violently, knocking Mirev onto her hands and knees. A blinding screech sounded and the shadows closed further around a sobbing Mirev. The light vanished.

_He's near…_

_I can sense it._

_He's near…_

_And he will free me._

* * *

Trace stood in the speeder bay among nine highly trained and extremely jovial SpaceOps Marines. The SpaceOps were a subdivision of the Rebel Alliance Special forces. SpecForce was an elite division of the Alliance Military who performed the most dangerous and difficult missions. They were recruited and trained from a young age, usually chosen from among the most skilled and motivated candidates, desiring to see nothing more than the downfall of the empire.

The SpaceOps Marines were those SpecForce troopers who undertook missions aboard ships and other space-faring battlegrounds, trained specifically for zero gravity combat, space suit operations and survival. They bore a heavy reputation among their ground-based counterparts for being thickheaded, trigger happy and using "charge-ahead" fighting styles. Nonetheless, they were the most effective soldiers for their role.

Trace sealed the helmet onto the rest of the suit and covertly slipped the holocron into the suit's belt, which also housed his life support systems. Small cords extended from a central device to attach to several parts of the armor, including the helmet. He felt empowered by the remarkable suit, but also felt like a poser amongst the other marines. The taskforce of 9 had been organized into two teams of five for the operation.

The first was comprised entirely of humans, with Brell, the unit's commander. Slate – a heavy weapon's expert with a menacing missile launcher slung over his back and another two of the small black canisters containing a suit. Slice – a melee combat master chosen specifically for Captain Pevin's operation in the event the inquisitor wielded a lightsaber and decided to use it. Two vibroblades were attached horizontally to his suit's belt. Flack was a quiet and unspecialized man, but deadly in his own right and Trace himself as the fifth member. All carried a uniform blaster pistol and rifle. The second team was similar in structure.

Someone cleared their throat very loudly from the railing above. The crew that littered the bay and marines turned their heads to give Captain Pevin their attention. He straightened the jacket of his uniform and continued,

"I don't care _what_ high command said, but I have no tolerance for mistakes. So I'm going to refresh your minds on what exactly you will be doing. In twenty minutes the _Avatar_ will make it's one and _only_ run past the station, and all of you will be squeezed into that arrow-23. When we get within range the turbolasers will burn through as many of those arrays as possible and the docking modules for the tartan cruisers. If we are successful, both ships will be paralyzed and you will be launched at one of the ruined arrays. Now if the information our smuggler _friend_ has provided is correct, all of you will make your way through the maintenance tunnels linking the arrays to the main station, and will break off into your teams when you enter it. We cannot stay long enough to penetrate the shields and destroy the generator without being hit by the array's asteroids."

"What if the impact from the 23 or turbolasers blocks the tunnels?" Slate interrupted.

"Then you can blow a hole through the debris with that thing on your back, if you can remember how to use it. Team one will find and retrieve the Inquisitor and Doctor Solace, while team two sabotages the port side tartan, then sets timed demolition charges in the station's reactor. You will then regroup aboard the second tartan and use the codes it carries to bypass the array system and detonate the charges to destroy the station. We will rendezvous with you in the designated system. You know this operation is critical. The information an inquisitor could supply on imperial operations is limitless, so I would expect no errors!"

He sighed, shifting his sight to meet eye to eye with every soldier in the bay.

"May the force be with you. All of you." Captain Pevin saluted, and made his way back to the turbolift.

There was a short pause among the marines after the captain left.

"Hardass!" Brell shouted, breaking the silence

All present in the bay erupted into laughter and began their final preparations, filled with battle cries and the snapping of cartridges into weapons. Trace, although was silent. He had his own plans for the inquisitor.


	4. Chapter 3: The Storm

**Chapter 3: The Storm**

The Command Blister of_ Solace Side Station_ occupied a region in the center of the structure, a spherical building whose interior was organized to resemble the bridge of a small capitol ship. The station master, Commander Xerr, was a young imperial officer charged with the duty after a family embarrassment threatened his career, seeing the opportunity in wild space as his chance to reclaim his dignity as an imperial pioneer. Xerr was always present in the commands blister, even in his leisure time, eager to prove himself.

"Sir, there's a ship approaching"

Xerr stood from his console immediately, marching over to the reporting Helms Officer. Their grey uniforms almost blended with the large terminal, distinguished only by the shadows projected by blinking lights.

"Its fast sir…A frigate, hull class DP-two-oh," the helmsman paused with a shocked look on his face, "Its alliance, Sir."

"What are they doing out here?" Xerr demanded

"Sir, I don't know. But their approach vectors come within one kilometer of the station."

"Then destroy them!"

"It's too fast, Sir. The gravity defense grid can't compensate!" the helmsman stammered, fingers striking keys in distress.

"Fire at will!"

* * *

"Captain, the taskforce is aboard the 23. All systems are go."

Pevin held his finger over the intercom on his terminal, responding to the engineer in the belly hold.

"Confirmed," he released the button and looked at the Sullustan, "Engines at maximum velocity. Watch those asteroids, Runcht. Show me how you earned those _Talons_."

Runcht's ears twitched as his instincts forced his hands to the console.

The _Lambent Avatar's_ sub-light engines burst into ignition, accelerating to their top speed within moments. Captain Pevin fixed his vision on his own display monitor, watching the outline of his vessel weaving between asteroids at dangerous speeds.

"Captain, the arrays are coming online," a crewman stated.

"I can confirm, sir. They're already firing!"

"They're getting nervous. How close are we?" Pevin said

"Eighty kilometers and closing"

"Bring the turbolasers online and lock station targets!"

Runcht wailed in dismay as a small asteroid scraped across the ships shields, shaking the substructure of the frigate violently. Energy was immediately shunted to the shields to prevent hull damage, causing support systems and lighting all over the ship to flicker and deactivate.

Asteroids propelled by the gravity pulse array system were closing in on the ship in chaotic patterns, sometimes colliding with stationary mammoths, sending meteors to shower off the ship's shields.

"What happened?" Pevin shouted

"There's too many incoming asteroids, sir! One impacted the shields!"

Pevin glanced over to Runcht, who was absorbed into his controls, aware of nothing else.

"Turbolaser batteries, disregard the station! Concussion launchers and turbolasers prioritize the _thrown_ asteroids and commence fire!" He ordered.

Eight dual turbolaser cannons and four thermonuclear concussion missile launchers rotated simultaneously. A barrage of green laser fire and flaming warheads began to blow apart asteroids of all sizes, the acceleration of the engines propelling the ship forward leaving the fragments only to drift.

"Shield status?" Pevin asked

"They're holding out, sir!" an ops crewman yelled in exhilaration.

"Distance?"

"Ten kilometers"

Pevin darted to the intercom, switching the system to sound through every available port throughout the ship.

"We're closing on the station! Open the launch bay! Turbolaser batteries, find your targets!"

"We're at one point five kilometers sir, Runcht is slowing and altering course to sweep the station."

"Fire." Captain Pevin said with determination.

A silence was shared aboard the _Lambent Avatar _as every ear listened for the sounds of the Turbolasers. Trace's stomach sank and his fingers dug into the padding within the Arrow-23 as it fell from the speeder bay doors into space. He groaned as the makeshift shuttle's thrusters fired and it entered a dive.

_I'm coming._

* * *

Mivia awoke in a daze, attempting to blink it away. Her hearing was muffled, and she could make out two figures to either side, a blur of black and an obnoxious craning figure that was obviously Doctor Solace. She could sense the frantic minds all over the station.

"…hyperspace, the station will not be safe until repairs can be made." Dretch's irritated voice was the first to become audible.

"I don't give a damn! This lab is the safest place on the station, I _designed_ it that way!" Doctor Solace growled.

"Nikolai, you and the inquisitor are the only reasons the Rebels would come here. This lab will be the first place the boarders search,"

"What is happening?" Mivia drawled, her senses recovering.

"Don't move. I just opened and closed your head"

Nikolai leaned closer to Mivia and held her left shoulder down lightly.

"A rebel ship has attacked the station, destroying multiple gravity pulse arrays and one of Tartan's docks. We believe a small shuttle carrying a boarding party has breached the shields," Dretch explained.

The storm commando was already equipped for battle, holding a DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle, a sleek black weapon with a vicious barrel, occasionally aiming it towards the lab door. He had a blaster pistol holstered to his left thigh and two thermal detonators attached to the front of his belt.

"_You_ think there's a boarding party. I don't" Nikolai scorned.

"A small pod-like object with engines slammed into one of the arrays closer to the station _after_ it was ripped apart by turbolasers, My Lady. We should evacuate aboard the remaining Tartan and jump to the nearest Imperial checkpoint." Dretch said, disregarding Nikolai to address Mivia.

Nikolai rolled his eyes and head and opened his mouth to rebut the storm commando.

"Where is the Rebel ship now?" Mivia interrupted.

"It jumped into hyperspace." Dretch said.

"Tell Commander Xerr to assemble half of his military forces in the commands center. We will regroup there and begin a manhunt for these intruders." Mivia ordered.

Dretch nodded and ran towards the lab door and began to relay the inquisitor's orders over the comms system to the command blister.

"_We_?_ You're_ not going anywhere, Mivia. There are still heavy sedatives in your body. You weren't supposed to wake up for another _four_ hours." Nikolai said urgently.

"An unusual display of concern, Doctor," Mivia accused.

"If something happens to you, _I'll_ get the blame. And I know damn well what happens when someone is blamed by the Empire!"

Mivia stared down at the hand on her robed shoulder. Nikolai scoffed in alarm and backed away. Mivia eased her back off the operating table and sat over the side. She closed her eyes and exhaled, using the force to counter waves of nausea with healing energies.

"Is the chip functional?"

Doctor Solace retrieved a small datapad from a bench next to the operating table, detailing the status of the cybernetic implant within her brain tissue and its system controls. He handed it to her.

"I hope you aren't thinking of doing anything stupid. Yes, the suppression program is working but I would _strongly_ advise against manipulating Mirev's patterns until the crisis is _over!_"

It was true. She could no longer hear Mirev's distressed and aggravated thoughts whispering into her own. Dretch finished his conversation at the door and hurried over to the operation table, preparing his equipment for combat, just as the alarm system began to whine a warning.

"What's wrong?" Nikolai asked.

"We have a problem."

* * *

"Hey, hey. You alright?"

Brell's voice came clear through the receiver in Trace's helmet. Trace was never accustomed to Zero Gravity, and neglected to mention it when he pushed his way into the operation.

"Trace, activate the suits pressure system."

Trace opened his eyes to see his heavy blaster floating free of its holster not too far from his right and Brell hovering in front of his sight, stretched out on his stomach. He had his knees bent so the soles of his feet touched the roof in the devastated interior of the arrow-23, steadying his free-fall patterns.

He grabbed hold of Trace's hand with his own, guiding it down to a red button on belt processor. Trace pushed it in and immediately felt the suit constrict further around his skin and the rushing sound of air within his helmet as the life support systems adjusted to the temperature and an artificial atmosphere was pumped into his helmet. His ears popped, and his head stopped spinning.

"I'm fine. Did we make it?" Trace asked, pressing down on the communicator activation on his helmet as he had been shown.

"He wants to know if we made it" Brell said on the frequency shared by all the marines.

A chorus of laughter came in reply.

"We made it. Look to your left," He said, a touch of humor in his voice.

Trace pushed off his seat, using his arms to turn to his left, which hosted the exit of the speeder. Plating from the foundations of the gravitational array had cut through the durasteel reinforcements and the hull of the craft just three centimeters away from where Trace's head had sat on their descent.

"Frell!" He exclaimed.

Another ramble of laughter broke through his helmet as Brell forced Trace's blaster into his hands and pulled himself out of the arrow-23. Trace followed into the derelict array that berthed the modified speeder. The taskforce marines littered the area, blaster rifles at the ready.

"Taskforce Commander Brell, we were able to prevent only _one_ of the Tartans' from launching. We are jumping into hyperspace to avoid a confrontation with the remaining vessel. May the force be with…" Captain Pevin's voice rang across the comms band before dissipating into static.

"Slate, found that maintenance hatch?" Brell asked.

"Yeah, TC. But the catch is busted"

"Well, we were expecting that. Ok, everyone get up as high as you can. Slate, blow it open." Brell ordered

"Yes _sir!_" Slate said excitedly.

Trace followed Brell and the other seven marines up the mass of ruined metal. Removing the Plex Portable missile launcher from it's securing on his back, Slate backed away from the access port he had been kneeling at.

Steadying the large grey barrel over his shoulder, he fired. No sound was heard in the vacuum enviroment as the missile deployed, fired its propulsion system and impacted the shoulder-width port. It was blown to pieces and settled dust was sent reeling upwards.

"Green light!" Brell bellowed.

One by one the marines kicked off the vertical surface of a metal beam forced into the ground from the arrow-23's impact, soaring through the small tunnel. Slate twisted diagonally for the ordnance on his back to slide through a narrow gap extending along the roofing of the maintenance shaft. Trace followed in last after Slate.

* * *

After twenty minutes of following identical surroundings, floating down a confined tube, Trace's heart skipped a beat when the port linking the tunnel to the station came into view.

"Hold. Flack, pass up the decryptor"

"Coming up, TC. Shouldn't we be ready for resistance on the other side?"

"There's more tunnel on the other side." Trace said

"No shit?" Flack groaned.

"He's right. There's a small section on the other side of this door," Brell paused, plugging the small grey disc device into the access panel, "for decompression."

Numbers flashed across a rectangular display on the device, loading thousands of combinations into the controls of the port within moments. No security alerts were activated, as the maintenance hatches and tunnels were considered as non critical secondary systems.

The device flashed blue and deactivated as the door opened to another tunnel and another hatch not forty meters away. Brell detached the device from the first door's controls and pulled himself into the passage.

"Move up." Brell said.

Trace tapped the controls on the first hatch after he was through, sealing it behind him.

"Look for the decompression-" Brell was cut off as atmosphere flooded the section, sending the taskforce thumping onto the grating below them.

"Controls…" Brell grumbled, raising himself onto his hands and knees.

Their suits adjusted to the sudden change immediately as the Taskforce moved towards the next door. Brell fitted the device onto the controls of the hatch once more, repeating the last process. When the correct code was found, he halted the sequence.

"I'm tossing a smoker in when it opens. Split into your teams as soon as we emerge and pursue your objectives. Keep me updated on your situation."

Brell counted down from three and opened the hatch, throwing a smoke grenade into the white corridor it emerged into. Two stormtroopers turned and pointed their rifles to the device as it exploded into a gaseous haze. Brell pushed his own rifle out of the port and released a spray of laser fire at the white figures, silhouetted in the smoke. As the taskforce poured into the corridor the alarm began to sound.

"Engage!"


	5. Chapter 4: Interruptions

**Chapter Four: Interruptions**

The commands blister contained an air of anticipation as half of _Solace Side Station_'s two-hundred strong Stormtrooper Company were assembled within the structure and outside its many hallways. Commander Xerr was sweating in impatience awaiting the arrival of Dretch, Doctor Solace and the Inquisitor. With nothing else to pass the time, he inspected the arriving soldiers and demanded to-the-minute status reports, enhancing the adrenaline produced in his already on edge command officers. There had been no further updates on the location of the invaders since the security alarms were triggered and the footage of their smoked-screened emergence from the maintenance tunnel was recorded. That was fifteen minutes ago.

"Sir!"

Xerr jogged over to the reporting security officer, leaning over his terminal, his eyes accosting him subtly.

"I've located the intruders. This was captured only two minutes ago" the officer jittered, foreboding Xerr's response.

Images of five charcoal armored figures ran down a passageway, one stopping to blast out the camera feed.

"Those were SpaceOps… but they can't be the only ones! Where was this recorded?" Xerr demanded

"Corridor C-two in section S-twelve, not far from the emergence point. It branches off into the mess hall and the turbolifts leading to the engineering sub-sections. I think they're heading to the combustion reactor, Sir, there's nothing else of interest down there."

"They wouldn't come here just to destroy the station, it must be a distraction." Xerr leaned back and turned to the personnel in the blister, addressing the Stormtroopers.

"Half of you get down to the reactor and eliminate the threat, the rest of you secure Inquisitor Arnia!" Xerr barked.

* * *

Brell glanced around a corner, brushing off any hesitation, instantly bringing his rifle to bear. High-powered blaster fire tore through the corridor, catching another two stormtroopers unaware as bolts burned through their torso protection with no resistance. They both collapsed against either side of the walls.

Brell signaled to the rest of his team with the flick of a wrist and proceeded down the cleared path. Trace followed after them slowly, intentionally keeping more than two meters behind them, attempting to pass it off as incompetence. They had delayed their own deployment five minutes after team two had started towards the reactor, in hopes to fool the Imperials of their true purpose on the Station.

Brell reached the end of the corridor and stopped when the doors leading into the next passage denied him and his decryption tool access, reporting the security systems had locked the device out permanently.

He hailed to Slate, who ran to the door and took Brell's place as he and the others fell back. Slate shouldered the launcher again and fired. The missile blew the doors inwards, the metal at the center blasted through to the next corridor.

Slate lowered the launcher and began to reload it. The rest of the team climbed through the opening, careful not to shred their armor on the protruding shards of metal on the opposite side.

The doors led them into the fork of three corridors. They immediately took cover against the walls separating the paths as blaster fire zipped through the passageway on the far left. Stormtroopers began to cascade down the corridor.

"Slate, cover us!" Brell shouted

"I'm on it TC!"

Slate peered into the targeting sight on the launcher and was confronted with the green silhouettes of the Stormtroopers heading down the corridor. He ducked behind a wall and strategically locked two targets through the solid material, leaning out and firing twice.

Having locked on, each missile's portable guidance systems found their targets and detonated. The blasts precisely removed most of the threat marching towards the marines. Bodies were torn apart and others thrown violently through the air.

Another wave of Stormtroopers began to emerge into the corridor, slowed by the corpses of the fallen troopers. Slate retreated down the center path of the forking corridors to his allies.

Brell had halted at a hulking blast door carrying into the next chamber, hastily attempting to open it as Slate reached the team. Trace fumbled with the unfamiliar design of his blaster, finally managing to charge it, firing three bolts down the corridor. He felled the first Stormtrooper who reached the fork.

"Should I blow it open, TC?" Slate questioned

"No, I want to seal it behind us. Just hold them off!" Brell growled, pulling the access control panel away from the door.

Brell ducked as blaster fired ripped down the corridor, scorching the door. Trace, Flack and Slice returned fire while Slate began to reload the launcher again, disturbing the dual canisters at his back to reach his ammunition.

"Just blast the controls!" Trace exclaimed impatiently.

He cursed as a bolt burned at the armoring on his left shoulder. Flack began to advance towards the fork, keeping the enemy from halting him with a barrage from his rifle. He removed a small brown device from his belt.

Brell began to tinker with the complicated coding systems in the controls, carefully removing the locking devices protecting the wiring. Trace took the opportunity Flack was providing to retreat to Brell's position. The other two marines sped towards Flack to provide support.

Flack raised his rifle with one arm and fired another barrage into the fork, blasting through the chest of another Stormtrooper who fell, seizing in agony. He set a ten second timer on the brown device that was similar in shape to a thermal detonator. Flack skillfully bounced it off a wall into the corridor filling with Stormtroopers.

"Get back to the Blast Doors!" Flack shouted at Slice and Slate.

The G-20 Glop Grenade fell to the feet of the advancing troopers, who braced up in fear of death. Rather than an explosion, they were greeted with a sighing noise as twin jets of gas began to squeeze out of the grenade. Nanoseconds later, vile green adhesive foam was spewed violently into the surrounding area, flooding the fork junction almost instantly.

The marines dived further into the corridor to avoid the foam while the Stormtroopers caught in the blast were pinned down under a wave of three meter thick froth, screaming silently in panic and confusion as they suffocated, the substance clogging their helmets' breathing filters. The surviving troopers tried to push through the waist-high "glop", their charge delayed.

"Nice job, Flack! But we've only got five minutes before the adhesive gets brittle. TC, how's it looking?" Slice questioned.

"Give me a moment. It's gonna to be a close one."

* * *

Dretch reached the exit of the walkway connecting the lab to the rest of the station, confirming his clearance and opening the door. He led Mivia and Nikolai into one of the clone corridors. Their journey from the lab had been irritatingly slow to Dretch, due to Nikolai's limp and Mivia's sluggish, sedative induced movements.

"Commander, we've entered the station. Is our route still clear?" Dretch droned into a nearby door's comms input.

"No, disturbances have been reported along your path. I've lost contact with most of the squads sent to investigate and secure you and the Inquisitor. _Apparently_ we've found the second team. They are isolated in section 15." Xerr replied.

"Section 15? Damnit, Xerr! That's only...," Nikolai paused to calculate, "Two hundred meters and five corridors away! Kill them, damnit!" he yelled, agitated.

"Is the situation being controlled, Commander?" Mivia questioned coldly.

"Y-yes, Lady Arnia. I have re-routed all nearby units to neutralize the Rebels. I would advise you to move back to the lab and wait until the threat is eliminated." Xerr blurted, quickly reconsidering his words, "For your safety, of course, My Lady!"

"No. We will intercept them. Order your men to ensure they _stay_ isolated." Mivia demanded.

"Of course, My Lady" Xerr said humbly, ending his communication.

Dretch nodded at the Inquisitor, offering his blaster. She accepted it and then thrust it into Nikolai's protesting hands, withdrawing a plain white cylinder from her robes. A lightsaber.

"Damnit!" Nikolai growled.

* * *

"That crap is breaking apart, Brell, give it up!" Trace said.

Brell ignored his objection and continued to tinker with the innards of the door's controls. Slate pulled his Plex-launcher's sight to his eye, using it to peer through the solid walls at the troopers wading faster through the adhesive as it began to solidify and crumble. He shifted the sight back along the adjacent corridors of the fork.

"I think you should listen to him, TC. We've got company." Slate advised.

The green outline of Stormtroopers began to emerge through the door they had blasted open. More were approaching through the previously empty corridor, beginning to wade through the foam.

"How bad is it?" Brell asked.

"Bad."

Flack poised his rifle against his shoulder and fired five bolts at the first Stormtrooper to break away from the adhesive. Trace groaned at Brell.

"Just blast the fragging thing open"

"If we do that, the doors _will_ jam, and they'll come anyway." Brell replied

"At least we'll have a more defendable position!" Trace retorted.

"It won't make a damn difference."

Slice joined Flack in firing down the corridor, ducking under a volley of returned blaster fire. Trace rolled his eyes and brought his pistol up, swatting quickly and violently at Brell's hands, firing into the control panel.

Sparks burst out of the interface and the blast doors quivered then halted, leaving a small opening. A visibly tight squeeze, but acceptable. To Trace, at least.

Avoiding Brell's retaliation, Trace slipped through the gap. Slate shrugged at a shocked Brell, removing the Suit-canisters from his back, tossing them through the opening, followed by his launcher. Flack and Slice stopped firing down the corridor and slipped through after Brell.

A dark-grey room confronted them with turbolifts lining the walls. Only one other corridor access was present, bearing only standard doors, opposite from the blast doors they came through. Slate ran over to the door and kneeled, launcher over his shoulder. He used the targeting system to peer through the door, alert for any activity.

"My team, _my _ru-" Brell started at Trace, but was interrupted by the SpaceOp's communication channel.

"Sir, we're in the reactor and the charges have been set." Team two's squad leader reported, breathing heavily, blaster fire littering the background of the communication.

"Affirmative, we still have yet to locate the inquisitor. Continue to the available Tartan, we'll regroup there. Brell out" Brell replied, terminating the channel.

He turned to trace, an aggravated face unseen through his helmet.

"We'll talk about this later. Slate, are we clear to move?"

Brell raised an eyebrow and turned to slate when he received no reply.

"Slate?"

"What the hell-" Slate began.

Slate stood and backed up as the metal door he was positioned at began to buckle and groan. Before he could retreat, the metal exploded inwards. Slate was sent hurtling through the air into one of the Turbolifts, knocking him unconscious.

The rest of the team fell to their stomach's as the two sides of the door soared with such a speed and force that they became lodged into walls at the opposite end of the room.

Blaster fire erupted into the room from both corridors.

* * *

"Stop. They are near." Mivia ordered.

Dretch immediately stopped and turned, halting at an entrance to a series of maze-like corridors. Nikolai muttered and activated his blaster in anxiety and looked to the Inquisitor. Mivia paused and breathed temporary healing energies into her body again.

Striding quickly down one of the branched corridors with refreshed reflexes, she halted at the door leading out. She relaxed the hand wielding her still inactive lightsaber and raised her left up to the door.

Dretch and Nikolai could feel the vibrations of force energy as she thrust her palm out, blowing the door apart. Momentarily drained of energy and with the effects of the sedative returning, Mivia dropped away from the entrance.

She fell to one knee, her robes folding against the ground. Nikolai squatted, concealing himself at her side, more out of fear for what lay beyond the door than Mivia's own health. Dretch spotted the Marines within the chamber and opened fire with his heavy blaster rifle.


	6. Chapter 5: Absolution

**Chapter Five: Absolution**

Trace shouted as blaster fire blazed around his body. He dived between two turbolifts and panted for breath, checking himself for wounds. The rest of the marines had already sought cover in the alcoves provided by the many turbolifts and began to return fire.

"Flack! Check on Slate, we'll provide cover fire!" Brell waved to flack from the opposite side of the room.

Flack nodded and crouched, moving out of his position. Heavy blasts from Dretch's rifle caused him to curse and immediately duck back out of sight.

"We've got a shadowhat!" shouted slice, pointing towards Dretch.

Flack primed his rifle, thrusting his arm out into the open. He blindly released a spray of fire towards Dretch's position, making him dodge to one side of the doorway. Flack took the opportunity and ran from his position towards the large man lying on his back at the foot of the blast doors. The marines provided cover, firing out of both entrances. Dretch remained out of sight.

"Hey man, you okay? Wakey wakey…" Flack said, skidding on his feet and removing an adrenal stimulant from his belt, stabbing it through Slate's suit and into his flesh. There was no reaction.

"Aww shit! Brell, he's dead!" he wailed.

"Frell! Grab his launcher"

Flack ducked under a multitude of lasers searing above his head. He sprang up in front of the blast doors and fired quickly into the amassing horde of storm troopers. Removing the Plex launcher from Slate's back, he threw the canisters towards a turbolift, hoping he was accurate.

"Got it, cover me!"

Flack sped back towards his alcove, accompanied by more blaster fire as the other marines leaned out of their positions. He pushed his back against a turbolift and readied the launcher, fumbling with the sight. Confident it was charged, he hastily chose his targets. Two rockets burst from the barrel in recession, exploding in the corridor beyond the blast doors, eliminating the approaching Stormtroopers.

By this point, Dretch had skillfully marked the three remaining marine's positions in his mind's eye, excluding Trace, who had yet to support the marines. He turned back behind the door, looking over his shoulder at Nikolai and the inquisitor.

"Are you able to fight, my lady? They're pinned."

Mivia inhaled deeply, slowly standing. She activated her lightsaber, a brilliant silver beam expanding instantly from the hilt. With a white glow tinting her face, she nodded.

"Don't do anything that requires the damn _chip_!" Nikolai snorted, backing down the corridor out of the firing line, realizing what was about to happen.

* * *

Trace's ears twitched and his head lifted immediately when the familiar snapping sound followed by a gentle humming was heard over the lull brought by the Plex launcher's detonation. He removed the holocron and two small, grey nodes from his belt.

* * *

Dretch brought his rifle to his waist and advanced slowly into the room. He continuously fired shot after shot at each spot where he knew the marines to be hiding. He was randomizing the pattern to keep them from choosing a moment to return fire.

Brell stole a quick glance before sparks erupted from where his head had just emerged. He saw the storm commando, followed by the inquisitor advancing behind him. Mivia's lightsaber was raised horizontal to her chest.

"Slice, the inquisitor's behind him…you're on. Flack, Trace, when I give the signal – keep the stormtrooper's busy. We'll handle these two." Brell whispered over the comm frequency.

Mivia tapped Dretch's shoulder, staring around the room, enhanced senses well aware of the four hiding between the many turbolifts. He ceased firing

"This stupidity is over. There is no hope for you to succeed now. Surrender and your families shall remain unharmed." Mivia said, immediately filling the silence.

The Inquisitor waited for a response, while flack peered through the Plex launchers sights at Dretch.

"TC, he's facing towards my side." He whispered over the radio.

"Now!"

Brell jumped from his position and ambushed the storm commando, slapping the heavy blaster rifle out of his hands and pushing his own into Dretch's visor. Dretch immediately leaned to the side, grabbing the barrel and thrusting the stock into Brell's stomach. Brell dropped the weapon and stumbled backwards, only to be immediately grabbed about the neck by Dretch.

Simultaneously, Slice detached the twin vibroblades from his back, speeding towards the inquisitor. He had already brought both above his head, leaping into a downwards cut with both weapons. All three blades collided with a sprite of energy. The sub-harmonics of Slice's vibroblades began to vibrate against the pure energy of the lightsaber.

Mivia extended her elbow violently, pushing Slice and his blades away from her saber. She bent her legs and brought her lightsaber around into a hacking motion towards Slice's left side, both hands on the hilt. Slice immediately pivoted on his foot and hooked his arms over his shoulders, bringing his blades to rest along his back. The lightsaber collided against them.

Trace and Flack had raced towards the blast doors and began to fire upon the stormtroopers still racing to provide support. Slate's body had been shifted aside. The holocron and nodes were still hidden in Trace's clenched fist. Nikolai was debating whether to run back to his lab or wait for the outcome, chewing his fingernails.

Brell slid both wrists through the outstretched, night-black arms around his neck, knocking Dretch's arms apart. He brought one fist into Dretch's stomach, while the other flew to grip the storm commando's visor in an attempt to blind him. Dretch braced for the punch, minimizing its impact through his armor. He locked onto Brell's free arm with both his own hands.

Dretch twisted Brell around, attempting to push him to the ground and break his arm. Brell jumped to one side, dislocating his shoulder in Dretch's grip, but bringing the storm commando to the ground. Brell grit his teeth against the pain and quickly leapt onto Dretch's chest. He began to beat at Dretch's helmeted head with his un-damaged arm.

Upon feeling the lightsaber fall against his blades, Slice rolled forward to avoid the next attack. He turned at the end of the motion, and came into a crouch. He poised with one vibroblade in an angle across his body and the other entirely outstretched.

"Let's go, bitch."

Mivia scoffed at the man's determination and brought her own weapon down, pointing towards her feet. She raised her other hand and clenched her fist, making a tugging action. Before Slice could act, he was wrenched from his feet by an invisible force and sent rocketing towards the inquisitor.

She brought the silver lightsaber up for the kill. Slice attempted to twist around mid-flight. He brought his blades forward, aiming for Mivia's heart. There was a scream of pain and a sizzle from the lightsaber as he soared past. His left arm, including his shoulder and vibroblade, fell to the ground at Mivia's feet. Slice slid to stop three meters away.

"Slice!" Flack screamed, distracted. Before he could rush to aid the wounded marine, more stormtroopers began to fire through the blast doors. Flack growled and returned fire.

Brell stood, panting. He had smashed into Dretch's helmet with his armored fist, knocking the man unconscious. He turned to face the source of the yelling, snapping his shoulder back into place.

Brell roared and picked his blaster off the floor, firing towards the inquisitor. Mivia backed up slowly, flicking her lightsaber up to meet with the bolts. As she reflected the shots, Brell seized the vibroblade from Slice's decapitated arm.

He set upon Mivia, enraged. Already beginning to feel the affects of the sedatives again, Mivia sluggishly brought her blade around to block and return the attacks. She began to shamble backwards from his raw ferocity.

Eventually backed into a turbolift, she raised a hand towards Brell, releasing neon-blue electricity from her fingertips. The electricity surged into him, frying his suit's systems and soon began to boil him from the inside out. He fell to his knees, crying out in pain.

Before Mivia could finish him, she began to feel dizzy. She paused her onslaught of electricity and steadied herself, attempting to counteract the sedative with the force yet again. An arm grabbed around her forehead and a blade was pressed to her neck.

"Gotcha" Flack teased, ignoring the blood dripping from his arm as he pressed it against her horns.

Mivia dropped her saber, unable to retaliate. It deactivated. Brell groaned, falling forward onto his palms, coughing.

"You gonna be okay, T.C? Trace is keeping the troopers busy, I gave him the last glop."

The hissing of jets and dense explosion of foam was heard in response.

"Wow. Cool." Trace mumbled, firing at the immobilized stormtroopers beyond the blast door.

Mivia blinked, her extremities becoming numb. She drooped in Flacks grip. Brell breathed slowly, his lungs still felt like a furnace.

Three blaster shots rang from the blast doors. Flack grunted and fell to the ground, releasing his grip on Mivia. She slumped against the nearest turbolift, exhausted.

Trace holstered his blaster and stepped over Flack's corpse towards a confused Brell. Trace brought his foot up and kicked out at Brell's head, sending him sprawling onto his back. He knelt in front of the inquisitor and produced the holocron, waving it in her face tauntingly.

"Remember this? You're mine now."

"You…" was all Mivia managed to say before Trace placed the grey pads on her temples. They began to glow a dull blue.

"Well look at you. I guess I don't _really_ need these. But you know what they say…better to be safe than sorry, eh?"

Trace tapped at the pads, and a brief surge of bioelectricity raced through Mivia's head, and unknown to Trace, the microchip. She closed her eyes, unconscious. He rummaged through her robes and produced a security clearance, using it to call a turbolift.

"Lucky me…straight to the shuttle bay" he said, reading the directions mounted under the call controls of one of the lifts.

"You asshole!" Brell groaned, attempting to get to his feet.

"Bite me" Trace said, kicking Brell back onto the ground.

Trace pulled Mivia into the Turbolift and quickly retrieved one of Slate's canisters from the center of the room and Mivia's lightsaber from the floor. He moved back into the turbolift and closed the doors, descending three floors into a shuttle bay.

* * *

"Commander? Commander Brell, come in."

Brell groaned, moving his hand to his helmet.

"What's your status, team two?" he drawled, getting to his feet.

"We've secured the first Tartan and are about to destroy it's dock" came the response through the radio.

"We ran into some trouble…I'll meet you at the last Tartan, Brell out."

_Solace Side Station_ shook with the explosion from the Tartan's docking module. The craft drifted away. A wandering asteroid collided with it, the following explosion rattling the station again. Brell pushed away from the lift he had braced against and glanced about.

The Stormtroopers had just begun to clear a path through the goop from the glop grenade as it turned brittle. Brell looked towards the opposite passage and caught sight of Nikolai Solace and a grin crossed his face.

He ran over to Dretch and removed the two thermal detonators from his belt. Brell activated one and threw it through the blast doors, ducking behind a turbolift for cover as the detonation sent debris littering both the corridor and the Turbolift room.

"Brell…" Slice groaned, still in shock.

Brell hurried over to Slice, cringing at the damage.

"You're coming with me" he said, wrapping his arm around the wounded marine's waist.

"No…Give me a blaster…and that thermal detonator…and get the hell out of here. You take me, we both die. At least we can come out of this with the Doctor."

Without a word, Brell gave Slice what he asked for, carrying him into a better position to view the blast doors.

"Get the bastard, TC."

Brell nodded and sprinted down the adjacent corridor. Nikolai whimpered and ran towards the door at the end of the passageway, only to trip before reaching it. Brell grabbed the back of Nikolai's coat and wrenched the small man to his feet. Nikolai looked up at the SpaceOps marine with a scowl.

"I've secured Doctor Solace." Brell said over the radio, triumphantly.

"Damn you! Get off my Station!"

"Oh after everything you've put me through, Doctor Solace, I'd be glad to."

* * *

As the turbolift doors opened to the shuttle bay open, Trace blasted the two uniformed maintenance crew loitering in the area. He slung the canister over his shoulder and pulled Mivia along by the collar of her robe towards the nearest Lambda shuttle with a cocky smile. The large, three-winged craft seemed to have been attended by just the two crew members. There was another grounded next to it.

He rested Mivia gently against the shuttle and scavenged the crew for their clearance codes and security keys.

"Trace…?"

He stopped searching the dead men and stood, turning towards the Zabrak.

"How sweet, you remember me? Do you remember _her_ too? You ruined both our lives, after all." Trace snarled, waltzing towards the shuttle and opening it's doors.

"Trace…it is you." The woman said, a relieved smile crossing her lips and tears streaking her cheeks. A deep, emerald color had gripped her eyes.

He dropped the cards and stepped out of the shuttle, mouth agape.

"Mirev…that you?" he scoffed in shock, then grinned, "Holy shit! I thought you were a goner"

Pulling of his helmet and throwing it to the side, he raced over to Mirev and embraced her, then pulled back, staring into her face. He leaned in once more and kissed her lips gingerly, pulling away. He cupped her face, the hate for Mivia leaving his eyes to be replaced for the love he always gave to Mirev.

"Listen…I'm gonna get you out of here, and get that witch out of your head…I've got this friend, says he can help you…"

Mirev cut his rambling short, raising her hand to stroke his cheek.

"Get out of here while you still can…You can't do anything to get rid of her…There is only one thing that can free me, and it's not in that holocron…" She smiled at him, then continued

"…you idiot. Leave before she comes back."

"Sorry, no deal. I'm taking both of you with me. See these little things?" Trace gripped her hand and pressed it against one of the pads on her temples. "These'll keep her out for a while."

"I can feel her taking control. They put something in my head while she was here…whatever it is, it interfered with these. I don't think she received the entire dose"

Out of desperation, Trace pulled away, ignoring her request. He started to haul her into the Lambda.

"Trace…" she croaked, breath cut short.

"Shh, everything's going to be fine, I promise" Trace cooed, placing her into the co-pilots chair.

He began turning on the shuttle's systems. Mirev shut her eyes, struggling for control of her mind.

"Trace…" she continued, eyes widening. The emerald seemed to retreat from her Iris' as a dark brown washed across their surface. Mivia squinted, angered. Trace continued to fiddle with the controls of the small, white craft.

The controls started to spark. Before Trace could question what was happening, he felt himself pulled out of the craft and thrown across the shuttle bay. The breath was knocked out of his lungs as Trace collided with the other Lambda shuttle.

Climbing to his feet, Trace found himself immediately pulled into the air. His windpipe began to contract painfully. Mivia's brown eyes confronted his own, a white glow surrounding them in a show of power.

"Let…her go…you whore" Trace sputtered, struggling for oxygen.

Mivia ignored his protest and retrieved the Holocron and lightsaber from his belt, placing them within her robes. She then pulled the devices from her temples, applied a small shock to them with her finger tips and placed them on the ground. She crushed them with a boot.

Turning her attention back to the Trace, she reached out to crush his lungs and trachea again. Trace fell from the air to his knees and started breathing heavily, relishing the air returning to his lungs. Mivia began to claw at her skull and wretch about. The color of her eyes began to fluctuate between green and brown wildly, the glow fading away.

Mirev was doing as much as she possibly could to stop the spirit from killing Trace. He got to his feet, staring at the writhing woman. Realizing what was happening, he ran towards the opened shuttle. Mivia thrust out her hand before he entered the door, sending him hurtling across the room into the turbolifts. She soon began to fight for control again, growling.

Unable to finish him off and unable to shake off Mirev, Mivia forced her legs forward, stumbling into the shuttle. She sealed the door and started to launch the white craft.

Trace stumbled towards the other shuttle as the turbolift doors opened.

Brell stood there, still holding Nikolai by the collar. He thrust him out of the doors and pointed his blaster towards Trace, who froze on the spot.

"Hey Brell…all's fair, right?" Trace ventured.

"Yeah, right. Dickhead. You're coming with me"

Trace darted a look at the other shuttle, shuffling his feet.

"Go ahead, Trace. If you try to escape, I _will_ shoot your ass. You've made a lot of enemies today."

The shuttle behind Trace unfolded its nested wings and hovered into the air, turning to leave the shuttle bay. Its engines flared. Trace ducked and ran towards the remaining shuttle, diving for the doors. Brell fired, scorching the unarmored areas of his legs with precise aim.

He fell to ground near the shuttle's entrance, obscured from sight by the head of the craft. Trace groaned, flailing at the door's controls, opening the shuttle. He crawled in before Brell could burn the rest of his body.

Brell continued to fire at Trace's shuttle as it too unfolded its wings and left the bay in pursuit of Mivia's vessel. She entered hyperspace before Trace could track her destination. Unable to follow, he plotted a course for Nar Shadaa, the smuggler's moon, and entered hyperspace himself. Brell growled menacingly and turned back to Nikolai, throwing the armor-canister towards him.

"Put that on. We're going for a space walk."

* * *

Brell latched onto Nikolai with an arm, preventing him from wandering away. They floated out from the station, the darkness of space quickly enveloping them.

"Team two, what's your status?" Brell signaled over the radio channels.

"We've assumed control of the Tartan. What is your position, Sir?" came the response

"About two hundred meters away from the station with Doctor Solace, Trace and the Inquisitor just jumped into hyperspace with individual Lambda Shuttles"

"Sir?"

"It's a long story. Bring the ship around to the lower, port-side docking bay. You'll hear us before you hit us. I've just enabled my beacon." Brell said, activating a device on his belt. It started a blinking an orange light, three seconds apart.

"Hold on…we've got the signal. Tracking…We'll be with you in approximately two minute's sir, hold tight."

"Affirmative, marine. Well done." Brell switched of his radio, looking to Nikolai

"You really chose the wrong job, didn't you?"

"Oh shut up, I'm just a scientist" Nikolai retorted.

"Yeap… that's what they all say"

Brell grabbed Nikolai's wrist and pulled him closer. Pushing on his chest and tugging at his arm, Brell sent Nikolai into a spin. Ignoring his protests, Brell stretched himself, rubbing his shoulder. He locked his arms behind his head casually.

"You should relax."

* * *

Commander Xerr fumed, staring at the defense grid, as if he could destroy his enemies with pure malice.

"Sir, they're about to enter the Array's minimal range"

Xerr marched over to the helmsman, snatching a blaster rifle from a nearby Stormtrooper. He blasted at the crew member, killing the man. Xerr pushed the man out of his chair and threw the weapon violently at the corpse, taking over the controls.

He was unable to destroy the Tartan cruiser as it left the asteroid field, roaring as the SpaceOps team detonated the demolition charges in _Solace Side Station's _reactor. The commands blisters rumbled, then erupted into debris as the reactor was destroyed, instantly killing everyone within it.

* * *

Dretch clutched his head, attempting to will away the pain brought by the beating he received from the marine. He stood, observed his surroundings, and limped towards Slice, who was still alive and firing through the blast doors of the turbolift areas.

Dretch wrestled the rifle from Slice and beat the marine in the head with it. He retrieved the thermal detonator from Slice's frantic hands before it could be activated. After attaching the device back to his belt, he held the marine's head in both hands. With a fast, lumbering motion, Dretch broke Slice's neck.

Feeling the rumbling increasing in magnitude each second, he closed his eyes and stretched his arms. He accepted his fate as it rushed through the gap in the blast doors in the form of flame to claim his life.


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Mivia gazed out the cockpit as thousands of stars rushed past the windows in the form of elongated streaks each second, revealing her to be in hyperspace. She sighed in relief, looking to the inactive holocron on the control panel besides her chair.

It was the same holocron that had housed her spirit for hundreds of years. She had a right to be shocked when Trace showed it to her. Mivia thought it to be lost, since the day she seized control of Mirev's body. A glance at her helm revealed her to be accurately on course for the planet Prakith, within the deep core of the galaxy. Prakith housed Citadel Inquisitorius. Inquisitors used the installation as a headquarters for all their businesses.

She turned her chair towards the holocron and leaned in towards it, more contemplating recent events than studying the cube. After leaving Trace to live, Mirev had ceased her attempts to overwrite Mivia. Mirev had only the power to cause her pain for the time being, and Mivia was already in the process of correcting that ability.

_They've got the doctor now, and Trace still lives. It is only a matter of time, Mivia, until I am free._

Mivia retaliated, caging Mirev's mind once more. She aimed to restore the microchip's functions as soon as possible. She focused back on the Holocron, raising an eyebrow. There was an unfamiliar glowing coming from a single indent on the surface. She reached out to touch it.

Her consciousness had become attuned to the device after its long isolation within the holocron's bounds. As such, it reacted to the touch of her essence as she stroked the lambent gash.

A shrill voice surged into her mind, followed by images of structures on a lush planet, surrounded by an un-natural, green mist.

_Seek not of relics and ruined pasts_

_A child of arch still lives through grass_

_Plains still influenced by force unknown_

_Search of the misty circle alone._

The experienced shocked Mivia and caused Mirev to recoil from the affects. When Mivia awoke, she was slumped against the console. Her heart skipped a beat when the remains of the holocron greeted her. She stared in dread at the fragments of ancient technology littering the area, already trying to decipher the message.


End file.
